


Not Gonna Work

by italics_of_uncertainty



Series: Awkward Bros Are The Best Bros [1]
Category: Avengers (Comics), Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Depression, Guns, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-25
Updated: 2012-08-25
Packaged: 2017-11-12 21:48:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/495991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/italics_of_uncertainty/pseuds/italics_of_uncertainty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce has been having a fairly bad time of it lately.</p><p>You don't actually need to read the other stories in the series to enjoy this one, I've just got them set up that way so that if you want to, you can read them in the right order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Gonna Work

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [ an awesome drawing by Astro](http://nogutsnoglory.tumblr.com/post/23302855972/you-know-thats-not-going-to-work-right).

“That’s not going to work, you know,” Tony says, leaning against the doorway. He’s tired and annoyed, and he’s got a long day in the morning, but he’s not going to leave Bruce like this, “Go to bed.”

“I know, I know,” says Bruce, shaking his head, “It just feels good to hold it, sometimes.” He turns the gun over in his hands, tracing the ridges on the barrel.

Tony finds him there, sitting in the closet that opens off his lab, staring at that gun, more often than he cares for. It’s not as if Tony hasn’t considered suicide before, not as if he hasn’t spent the last two decades trying to drink himself into an early grave; he just wishes that Bruce could see the upside. See that not everything is awful. They did save the fucking world a few months ago, that’s got to count for something. Tony doesn’t really understand when Bruce gets like this, but he knows that right now what he needs to do is sit down, shut the hell up, and let Bruce talk, or not talk. Whatever. He wishes he had a cup of coffee, but DUM-E’s nowhere to be found, and Butterfingers couldn’t make a cuppa to save his circuits. He sighs, and sits on the floor next to Bruce.  
     
Bruce turns the gun over in his hands again and again. It seems like he’s trying to puzzle something out, as if there’s some hidden code in the way it’s put together, the weight of it, the way it fits in his hand. Eventually Tony takes it from him, checks the safety and sets it on the floor. Bruce just kinda slumps over then, like all the will to fight has gone right out of him. Tony wraps an arm around him, but it’s awkward from this angle, and he really just ends up patting him on the back. It’s a little more touchy-feely than he really wants to be with anybody right now, but he leans his head against Bruce's anyway, and from here he can tell Bruce is crying.

“Come on, big guy,” Tony says, “It’s not so bad. Really. Maybe you’re not gonna off it in some accident, but that doesn’t mean…” Though really, he doesn’t know what it means, and he just doesn’t have the bluff to pull this one off. “It’ll…” he says, patting him on the back, “It’ll be alright.” He pulls Bruce's arm over his shoulder and gets to his knees, “Ready?” he asks, and stands, half-dragging Bruce along with him. “Time for bed.”

They make it to Bruce's bedroom, and Tony’s about to pull back the blankets, when Bruce just falls face down on the bed, and stays there, splayed out. Tony rolls his eyes and unlaces Bruce's shoes, pulls off his socks, shoves him over on his back and undoes his belt buckle, “You sleep in your shorts?” 

“Mmhph.” 

Tony takes that as a yes and he tugs at Bruce's pants, ditching them with the shoes at the foot of the bed. He’s thinking that this is worse than dropping off a drunk girlfriend, at least then he’d maybe get laid, but Bruce is his friend and somebody’s gotta look after him when he gets like this. Fuck knows enough people have made sure Tony at least woke up in his own bed over the years, and he figures he still owes Bruce, what with the whole saving him from turning into a very messy, steel-wrapped pancake bit.

Tony’s working on unbuttoning Bruce's shirt when Bruce catches his hand, and ever so quietly, almost so quiet that Tony isn’t quite sure he’s heard him properly, says, “Stay.” But then he says it again, louder, “Stay.”

“Sure, sure,” Tony says, finishing with the buttons on Bruce's shirt, patting his shoulder. He’s looking around for a chair, he thinks there’s one in the other room, and he’s just about to get up to go fetch it, sit by Bruce's’s bed at least till he’s asleep, but Bruce grabs his wrist and holds pretty tight for somebody who’s bordering on comatose. Tony sits back down on the edge of the bed, and Bruce curls around him. Tony sighs and leans over to hug him, rubbing his back in a sort of _this-really-isn’t-that-gay_ way. 

Bruce grabs him then, and pulls him down, holding on with a grip like a vise. Tony always forgets how strong Bruce is, he doesn’t look it, at least, well, at least when he’s not a giant green rage monster, but the dude is nothing but lean muscle. Slowly, it starts to sink in that they’re _cuddling_. Bruce is pressed against Tony from chest to toes, and when Tony tries to inch away just a bit, make this a little less like cuddling and a little more like not cuddling, Bruce doesn’t seem at all inclined to let go. Tony rolls his eyes; if Pepper sees this, he’ll never hear the end of it.

Bruce must have been pretty tired, because now he seems to have fallen asleep; he’s not quite snoring, but he’s almost, maybe, purring. Tony’s not really all that comfortable thinking about it, but Bruce has tucked his head into the hollow of Tony’s shoulder, and it’s hard to ignore. So he stares at the wall, he stares at the clock, and he counts off the minutes till it’ll be polite to wake Bruce up so he can leave.

At some point he must have fallen asleep, because the next thing he knows there’s sun shining through the windows, and in his sleep he’s somehow managed to make this even more embarrassing, because now he’s laying with his head on Bruce’s chest, and Bruce’s got his arm wrapped around him. He’s thinking about how this is just really awkward, and he’s not sure how he’s going to extricate himself without waking Bruce or the fucking Other Guy, when Bruce stirs a bit, mumbles something and clumsily pets Tony’s hair. For just a split second, Tony likes it; it feels nice and he can hear Bruce’s heartbeat, and despite all his bravado he’s never really felt like affection, love, lust, any of it, is necessarily linked to gender. He just hasn’t ever met a guy who looked quite so good in heels and a short skirt, and, well, the minute he made a pass at some guy in a bar it’d be all over the tabloids. It’s just easier not to think about it. 

Right now though, it’s a little hard to not think about it, because Bruce’s rubbing his shoulder trying to wake him up, and he can’t really pull the drunken stupor trick, seeing as it was him who dragged Bruce to bed and not the other way round. So he stretches and shifts, makes a show of yawning, blinking the sleep out of his eyes.

“Morning, Sunshine. Still wanna off yourself?” Tony says, and immediately winces. He’s never really been all that great with sympathy, but even for him that’s a little low.

Bruce laughs, “I’m still here, aren’t I? Guess I’m alright then.” Tony shrugs, a _fine, whatever_ , sort of shrug, and he’s about to get up when Bruce looks him right in the eye, and says, “Thanks.”

Tony wants to say something snarky, but not a damned thing comes to mind. He looks around, as if maybe the wallpaper’s going to tell him something clever to say, before he finally just gives up with a huff. Bruce is still looking at him with those big puppy eyes, and Tony knows he’s going to regret this, but he lays back down anyway. “Anytime,” he says, pulling Bruce into a hug, squeezing him tight, “Anytime.” 


End file.
